


Dreaming

by Roo_Bastmoon



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dream Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roo_Bastmoon/pseuds/Roo_Bastmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aya can't find rest so long as Ken keeps moaning in his sleep...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

~*~

The small grocery store was busy, packed with shoppers. Everyone scurried to make their purchases before the afternoon thunderstorms. Weiss wasn’t hurrying, however. They didn’t mind a little rain. 

Ken examined the fresh vegetables for the salad that he would make for dinner that evening. Granted, he wasn’t that great a cook, but of all the boys, he was the only one that liked cooking. He was a little surprised that Aya let him back in the kitchen, considering that little incident with fire the last few times . . . He glanced over at Aya.

The redhead pressed his thumb into all the exotic fruits, testing for ripeness. He frowned at the papaya he’d just mashed all to hell, like it was the papaya’s fault. Ken bit his lip and quickly looked back down at his spring lettuce.

Yoji sauntered toward them. The blond bombshell hurled a bag of chips over his shoulder onto the wrong shelf, striding over to Aya. He hooked his arm around the sulking man and whispered something. Ken twitched, stuffing more lettuce into his basket without looking at it.

"Yo, Aya-kun?" Yoji asked. "You’re goin’ about that all wrong. Look, like this—" Yoji ripped a large grapefruit out of Aya’s callused hands and began rubbing it obscenely. "First, you’ve gotta test the skin . . ." Yoji deliberately looked up at Ken while he molested the poor, innocent fruit. 

Ken blushed.

"Make sure it’s soft, but firm . . . like a pretty young girl . . .”

Aya rolled his eyes. Ken balked. Yoji continued to stare deeply at Ken.

"Then, you’ve got to test it for strength," Yoji insisted, rolling it back and forth between his hands. 

Ken tried to look away. 

"This one’s a little tender . . ." Yoji mused, grinning at Ken’s blush.

Aya shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Yoji . . ."

Yoji brought the grapefruit to his lips. "But that means it’s really sweet on the inside." He inhaled deeply.

Ken gulped.

"Soft, round, firm, and ripe. I’d take it if I were you," Yoji said to Aya.

Ken was going to get a nosebleed. Aya looked like he was gonna punch Yoji’s lights out. Yoji just grinned.

Suddenly, Omi ran out from behind a pyramid of cereal boxes. "Aya-kun!"

Aya turned to look at the little brunet dashing toward them. "What is it, Omi?" he asked coldly.

"Can we get these?"

Ken and Aya eyed the mounds of chocolate bars in Omi’s arms with dismay.

"Of course we can, Omi." Yoji grinned. "But if you get sick, I’m not cleaning it up."

Ken gave an exasperated sigh. " ‘Of course we can, Omi,’ he says. I’ll just bet I know who’ll be cleaning it up," he muttered.

Aya shrugged one shoulder. "Look, get whatever you want to pay for and let’s get going. Manx might need us."

Yoji huffed. "Manx, Manx, Manx. Mission, mission, mission. Sometimes you’re no fun, Aya. No, wait. You’re never fun."

"Well, I wouldn’t want to act like an ass and put you out of a job, Yoji," Aya bit out.

"Ouch," Yoji said, dismissing the remark with a cheeky grin. "Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"More like never got to sleep," Aya murmured as he took the grapefruit out of Yoji’s hand and tossed it into his basket, heading for the checkout line. 

Ken watched Aya walk away. Something didn’t seem quite right. Aya had always been a mystery, but he was acting strangely even for him. Ken adored him, but he didn’t really know anything about him. 

The rest of Weiss headed for the registers, Ken with his well-balanced meals, Omi with his arms full of candy, and Yoji with his arms full of Omi.

~*~

Aya could not sleep again for the third night in a row. The reason was obvious. The solution was not so simple.

His room was situated right next to Ken’s, and the walls weren’t very thick. He could hear the other man shift in his sleep, if he tried hard enough. But wasn’t Ken’s tossing and turning that keep Aya awake.

His moaning did. 

At first, Aya thought the boy was sick. Heart-felt groans softly poured between the cracks of the walls. It alarmed Aya. Then he heard Ken start to pant. Not like he was in pain. No, these were needy little pants; sexy. The boy’s breathing was erratic. He’d hum. Sometimes, Ken would make little whimpering noises; Aya always got hard, then.

He tried to cover his head with his pillows, but Ken would get louder, ecstatic. Aya considered wearing headsets, thinking that music might drown it out. But . . . he didn’t want to, not really. He wanted to listen . . . he wanted to hear what Ken would be like . . .

It was almost always the same, every night. Ken started to shift and roll in his bed, as if he were too hot. Then the boy gasped and start to moan. Ken would make these little pleading noises from the back of his throat, and he’d keep it up until he came. Ken’s unconscious, sated groan always made Aya feel awkward. He’d be left, awake, guilty, aroused, while Ken nestled back into the warmth of his dreams.

Aya started to resent it. He was not sated. He did not feel left warm. And he could not, for the life of him, sleep. Especially not now, when Ken thrashed about, in the midst of panting and twisting his sheets up. Aya thought about how Ken must look, on the other side of that wall.

He imagined the soccer player’s body; the curves and hollows; the hard muscles. He pictured Ken under him, writhing. Aya’s smooth surface began to crack. His hand flattened against his cock; he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. 

Thinking of Ken’s eager kisses, of his blush . . . Aya slowly touched himself, pretending it was Ken’s hand. He reached into his cotton boxers and fisted his cock, stroking it in rhythm to Ken’s moans. He fantasized about fucking Ken. Harder, harder . . . He pinched his nipple, his other hand flying up and down his shaft.

Aya began to pant as well; sweat trickled down his forehead. Ken whined. "Come on, Ken, do it,” Aya whispered. 

Ken wailed; Aya humped his hips off the bed, blood rushing in his ears. He came all over his hand, frozen, utterly speechless. The fantasy faded, and Aya found himself left in a pool of his own cold sweat. 

On the other side of the wall, Ken was finally quiet.

Aya turned over on his side, exhausted. He closed his eyes, too tired to bother with cleaning up.

~*~

He awoke to the nauseating reek of scrambled eggs. Ken, no doubt, as Omi had no culinary skills whatsoever, and Yoji might be able to break an egg, but could never cook it, and certainly not this early in the morning.

Aya sat up in his bed, his head throbbing. Sunshine filtered into his Spartan bedroom. He looked down to find his hand in his pants, fingers still encasing his limp dick, stained with the cold come. Disgusted with himself, he wiped his hands, tore his clothes off, and headed for the shower.

Omi face-vaulted in the hallway, staring at his ass as he stomped into the bathroom. Aya climbed into the shower and yanked the hot water on full-force. . . his typical cleansing ritual . . .

~*~

"Hey? Is there anything wrong with Aya-kun, you guys?" Omi asked as he slipped into his seat at the table without having to pull the chair out.

Yoji glanced up from his mug of coffee and mumbled a very eloquent, "Humph."

Ken turned away from the stove and reached for the salt in the top cabinet. "What makes you ask, Omi?"

"Well, Aya-kun just walked out of his bedroom totally naked and went into the bathroom. He didn’t even say hello."

Ken dropped the salt and then cursed as he tried to scoop up the mess with his bare hands. "N-naked?"

"That’s bad luck, you know," Yoji murmured as he took a pinch from Ken’s hands and threw it over his left shoulder.

"Being naked?" Ken asked innocently.

Yoji gave him a look. "Spilling salt.”

Ken blinked. “Oh.”

Still dressed in a towel, Aya walked in the door just in time to see Yoji touching Ken’s hands . . . and Omi watching Yoji closely as he did so. Aya really wanted to knock the blond ‘lady’s-man’ into next week—for Omi’s sake or Ken’s, he wasn’t sure. The man needed to buy a clue already.

"Something’s burning," Omi announced.

"Oh shit!" Ken whirled around to see his eggs and bacon turn to crispy cinders. Flames enveloped the entire frying pan.

"Ken, watch out!" Yoji yelled as he pulled Ken away from the stove.

Suddenly a very wet, very angry Aya came forward. He turned off the stove, quickly dumped the pan and its contents into the sink, and then turned the cold water on. Ignoring the smoke billowing around him, Aya slowly pivoted to face Ken.

"Can’t I trust you to make one meal without burning the whole house down?" he hissed.

Ken’s back arched. "I’m not that bad!"

“You are a walking fire hazard. Turning your back on a lit stove.” Aya folded his arms. “Really, Ken, you should try thinking. You can't get by in life just on good looks and a stellar personality," he said sarcastically.

Ken’s mouth opened and closed. He hung his head.

"Aya, that’s a little harsh," Yoji said quietly. 

"Mind your own business," Aya snapped, turning off the water.

"Aya-kun?" Omi asked sharply. 

Aya thinned his lips. "I’m sorry. I . . . haven’t gotten much sleep lately . . ." He glanced at Ken, who just blinked innocently.

"No, it’s my fault," Ken started, his eyes plastered to the floor. "I can’t do anything right. I can’t even make eggs." He made to leave the kitchen.

They heard the front door open and snick shut. Manx was the only one with a key. Manx was there . . . in their living room?

~*~

"Hello boys." Manx smiled.

"Hiya, wild thing!" Yoji called.

Manx quirked an eyebrow and let her focus shift to the other boys.

Ken quietly slipped into the room and sat on the edge of the sofa. Omi bounded in. Aya walked slowly out of the kitchen, his movements graceful, as if he didn’t notice the bath towel clinging to his hips.

Manx began talking about Persia’s orders for a new assignment, but Ken tuned everything out. He kept running Aya’s bitter words over and over in his mind. The man wore only a small white towel, which dipped just below his navel and molded to his thighs. Sheen from his shower beaded up on his white skin; his chest was muscular. . . broad shoulders . . . Ken swallowed, staring.

Aya slowly turned his head and leveled Ken with his eyes. Ken blushed and snapped his head back to Manx.

"I said, think you can handle that?" she asked flatly.

"Erm . . . yeah. Sure," Ken croaked.

Manx gave him a long look, then shrugged and turned to walk out of the apartment. "Just remember, boys, the man you’re up against is not nice."

"Don’t worry, Manx-san," Omi said, "We can handle it."

Aya looked over at Ken; they stared at each other for a moment, then Aya sharply turned on his heel and headed toward his room. Omi shrugged and went back to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Ken sat on the sofa, trying his best to remember what Manx had told them.

Yoji smirked. "Come on."

Ken frowned. "Where?"

"I’ll fill ya in on the mission.”

Ken blushed but nodded gratefully. 

~*~

Later that night, the apartment was totally silent. Yoji had gone out on a date. Omi was absorbed in his video games, which he thankfully played with the sound off. Ken finally slept. Aya sighed, burrowing under the covers, controlling his breathing. He was so fucking tired. His eyelids drooped, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

~*~

It started again. Ken was tangled up in dreams . . .

Aya pushed him on the bed and stood over him like a king inspecting his newest slave. With agonizing slowness, Aya raked his eyes over Ken’s shivering, half-naked body. He ran his hands down Ken’s stomach.

He caressed Ken, stroking, petting, rubbing. Aya knew just where to put pressure, where to tease. Ken’s breathing came faster and his face flushed.

"Take off your clothes, Ken," Aya ordered.

Ken obeyed, wanting to please. He stripped off his pants and underwear. Aya shoved him back on the bed immediately after. 

"Good," Aya whispered.

Ken let his gaze drop to the floor, delighting in the tiny praise. 

Aya lanked over Ken, on his hands and knees, his mouth an inch above Ken’s.

"Do I please you, master?" Ken whispered, barely audible.

"You know you do," Aya growled.

"Ahnnn!" 

He ravished Ken’s mouth, and Ken loved it. He panted and moaned, straining into Aya’s brutal hands. He begged for more, lifting his hips, grinding their cocks together. Aya roughly humped him, scraping his jeans mercilessly over Ken’s dick, making him cry out.

Ken let his master use him, let Aya suck and kiss and squeeze wherever he wished. Ken wanted to be taken and he groaned in frustration. “Please make me come.”

"No, I don’t think so," Aya said icily.

"Huh?"

"You don’t deserve to come."

"Aya?"

~*~

Aya’s eyes snapped open at the mention of his name, and he jerked up in bed, straining to hear what Ken said.

~*~

"You don’t deserve it, Ken. You can’t do anything right."

"Aya," Ken choked.

~*~

The desperation in Ken’s voice . . . it sounded like he was in pain. Aya tossed his covers to the side, bounding silently for Ken’s door.

~*~

"You think I should let you come, Ken?" Aya.

"Aya, no . . ."

“Think, Ken.” Aya slapped Ken across the face, hard.

"Aya!" Ken shouted.

~*~

The hairs on Aya’s neck stood up. He brushed open Ken’s door, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

Ken’s handsome face twisted in pain, and his hands clutched the sheets. He panted and whimpered like a little kid. Aya grabbed Ken’s shoulders and shook him awake. "Ken! Ken, wake up!"

“No . . .”

"Ken!" Aya said gruffly.

Ken jerked awake, his arms crossing defensively over his face. 

Aya froze. "You were having a nightmare."

Ken panted, curling over on himself. Aya could see his erection; there was no point in trying to hide it. Then again, Ken was easily embarrassed.

“A-Aya?”

"Yeah. It’s me. You were having a nightmare."

"Oh," Ken said stupidly.

"Can you lie back down, you think?"

Ken blinked, just now realizing that he was plastered to Aya. He blushed furiously and propelled himself back on the bed. Hitting his head on the headboard, of course.

"Ow! Fuck!"

Aya chuckled. "Dumb ass."

"Oh, I’m glad you find this funny, Aya," Ken hissed as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Here, let me see it." Aya ran the pads of his fingers over Ken’s head, looking for a lump. All he felt was soft, soft hair. 

"You must think I’m such a baby,” Ken muttered.

Aya sighed. "You are a klutz and a pain in the ass. But you’ve saved our lives time and again, so I think we’ll keep you around."

Ken peered up at him.

"I shouldn’t have yelled at you today. I was just worried about you. You’re a disaster in the kitchen." 

Ken looked down, smirking.

Aya ruffled Ken’s hair and stood up. "Get some sleep. You’ll need it for the mission." He headed for the door.

“Aya?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Aya didn’t say anything, just closed the door. 

Ken was quiet the rest of the night.

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  


Yoji was having way too much fun, Ken decided. And he did not like it. Not one bit. Not _one_ bit.  


The self-proclaimed stud-muffin cackled, emerging from his chest of drawers with a tube of black lipstick. "Ah ha! There you are! I knew one of those girls was goth. Come ’ere, Kenken."  


Ken meeped and ducked back into Yoji’s walk-in closet.  


"You know, Kenken, running back into the closet only makes me want to pursue you all the more."  


"Pervert!"  


"Bwuhahahahahah!"  


~*~

  


Omi and Aya exchanged nervous glances at the sounds coming from Yoji’s room. Aya distracted himself with helping Omi into a red silk shirt. Clubbing gear really only made Omi look younger, but as long as he got past the bouncers, that could be to Weiss’ advantage, depending on how perverted their target was.  


Aya paused, wondering when he started thinking about everything in terms of sex. Probably when Ken started . . .  


"Aya-kun?"  


"Hm?"  


"Have you ever though about getting a nipple ring?"  


Aya’s jaw dropped open. "What?!"  


Omi hummed. "I was just thinking it would look really good on you, if you ever stopped wearing those tight-fitting sweaters."  


"Yoji has been a bad influence, I think—"  


Yoji popped his head around Omi's door. Grinning evilly he said, "He’s _ready_."  


"Yoji-kun, you’re scary," Omi muttered.  


"Come on! Come on, out with you, Kenken!" Yoji tugged at Ken.  


"NO!" Ken tried to run back down the hallway.  


"Yes!” Yoji insisted. “Get your little bony butt back here now! We have a mission!"  


"My butt is _not_ bony!" Ken said, offended.  


Aya lips quivered. Ken’s ass was, in fact, pert and firm and . . . oh boy. He rubbed his temple.  


"Kenken," Yoji purred. "I worked so hard on you. You look so _pretty_."  


"Shut UP!"  


"Aw, what’s a matter? Shy? I promise the other boys won’t ravish you, and if they try, I’ll protect you."  


"I’m gonna kill you, Yoji, I swear!"  


“Oh yeah? Maybe I should get Aya to come help me. Aya?"  


Ken hissed something at Yoji.  


"Only if I get to do it to you too, baby," Yoji taunted.  


Ken reluctantly came around the corner and walked into Omi’s room.  


Aya’s eyes went wide. He didn’t know where to look first. He started with Ken’s soft, choppy hair, which was now streaked with silver and blue glitter. Then he took in Ken’s striking brown eyes, accented by a touch of charcoal eyeliner. Next, the mouth, swollen slightly from one thin coat of black lipstick. Very sexy.  


Aya raked his gaze over Ken’s black tank-top . . . vest . . . shirt . . . thingy. The muscles on his shoulder and upper arms competed with the solid plates of his chest and torso, which stretched the tight vest. Some of Ken’s lower stomach peeked out from the shirt—revealing a bit of his chiseled six-pack. His leather pants looked painted on over his robust thighs and calves. Steel-tipped bitch boots completed the look. Ken was sex, on legs.  


Aya groaned.  


"I take it you approve?" Yoji pandered.  


Aya wanted to tell Yoji to fuck off, but he couldn’t speak. Or think. Or breathe.  


Ken shifted nervously.  


"You look hot, Ken-kun!" Omi cheered.  


Ken blushed. "You’re too young to think that."  


Omi rolled his eyes. "I’m almost seventeen! I'm exactly the right age to think that. And you _are_ hot!"  


"You can thank the master." Yoji smirked.  


"You look . . ." Aya started. What exactly was the right word? Stunning? Mind-blowing? Dazzling? Fuckable? Aya cleared his throat. "Where’s your claw?"  


Ken almost fell on his face. "Um, in my room."  


"Get it. You’ll need it." That was all Aya would say.  


Yoji pouted.  


Ken rushed back to his bedroom, chanting, “Dumb ass,” the whole way.  


“You look nice too, Yoji-kun,” Omi said.  


"You think so, Omi?" Yoji asked, slithering over the armrest of Omi’s chair and planting a kiss on Omi’s cheek.  


Omi squirmed playfully and pushed Yoji on the floor.  


"Oh!" Yoji gave a pitiful wail. "I’m wounded! I thought no one can resist my wiles?” He chuckled.  


Omi smirked. "Your skills are formidable,” he said, sinking to the floor. "But you shouldn’t underestimate your prey."  


Both Aya and Yoji raised an eyebrow at that.  


"Oh?" Yoji teased.  


"Mm," Omi said leaning forward, almost kissing Yoji, but then at the last minute, he picked up his jacket off the floor.  


Aya sighed. "Wipe the drool off your chin, Yoji, and get moving."  


"Maybe you should follow your own advice, Aya."  


"What advice?" Ken asked as his boots clanked back into the room, claw and leather jacket slung over his shoulders.  


Aya took a moment to gather his wits and fold his trenchcoat to hide his erection. "Let’s get going."  


~*~

  


The club was one hell of a meat market. Girls with girls, with guys, with god-only-knows, slinking and sauntering and sizzling all over one another on the dance floor.  


"Holy shit," Yoji said as a transvestite walked past him and tapped him with his whip.  


"Omi," Aya started. "I don’t think—"  


"Ohhhh look! Lesbians!" the boy squealed.  


"Ah, a boy after my own heart," Yoji murmured, before he covered Omi’s eyes.  


“Hey!" Omi exclaimed.  


Ken looked a little dazed. He was obviously a virgin, Aya thought, no matter how loud he might moan in his sleep. "All right. Spread out. Find the target. Follow him and keep it quiet."  


"Right," the boys said in unison.  


Aya stalked toward the bar; Yoji headed for the dance floor; Omi took the bathrooms and Ken just kind of stood there, awkwardly.  


"Wanna dance?"  


Ken looked up to see a tall, dark, handsome _man_ tower over him. "Uh . . ."  


"Uh? I confess I’ve heard better pick up lines . . ." The man smiled.  


Ken blushed.  


"You’re cute," the man murmured as he traced a finger over Ken’s cheek. "What’s one dance? You don’t have a master, do you?"  


Ken swallowed. It was his job to get out there to find the target, and this man looked as good a cover as any. So what if everyone thought they were a gay couple? Practically everyone here _was_ a gay couple! Though he was pretty sure Yoji left that part of the mission out.  


"A dance sounds good to me," he heard himself say.  


"That’s better." The man winked.  


Ken let himself be led to the dance floor. It wasn’t too bad. He liked dancing, actually. He used to dance in his room, in his socks, so that the others wouldn’t know. He felt really hot in this outfit, and he was dancing with a fairly attractive partner, he had to admit. So he didn’t do anything but smile when the man draped an arm around his shoulders and moved closer . . .  


However, he did feel a little out of his depths when the man pulled him against his ribcage.  


“Um . . .”  


“You’re _so_ cute,” the man breathed in his ear.  


"Please, I—"  


"You look delicious," the man whispered.  


"I . . . I—"  


"Mm." The man leaned down to kiss him and Ken wriggled to get free.  


"Excuse me. Can I cut in?"  


Ken looked up. "Aya!" he said, relieved.  


"No," the man said simply, before turning to face Ken again. "Now, where were we?"  


Suddenly the man’s eyes went wide—Aya had griped the guy’s balls!  


"Listen, asshole. That boy belongs to _me_. You touch him again and I’m going to feed you these little beans you’ve got for breakfast, got it?"  


The man nodded frantically. Aya roughly pushed the man away; he stumbled and slinked off to the sidelines.  


“Aya,” Ken whispered.  


"Come here, Ken."  


Without hesitation, Ken walked right into Aya’s arms.  


"I guess with you looking the way you do, we’ll have to pretend we’re a couple."  


Ken blushed his roots. Aya smirked and pulled him in closer. "Put your arms around me, Ken."  


Ken wrapped his arms around Aya’s lean waist and tucked his head under the taller man’s chin. Aya hugged him closer and swayed in time to the music. Ken was euphoric.  


"Keep your eyes open for Makao," Aya murmured over the blast of the speakers.  


"Hm-mm." Ken said as he lay his head against Aya’s chest.  


Aya’s hand combed through his hair for a long time. Ken clung to him.  


"Ken."  


"Mm?"  


"Ken. I see Makao. I see the target."  


Fuck the target. Fuck the world. He couldn’t care less about the mission at this point. He was actually in Aya’s arms, dancing to a slow, sexy song . . . Who cared about protecting innocents from dark beasts . . . Ah, crap. He did.  


"Where?" Ken sighed.  


"At that cage thing with the dancer in it. He’s talking with Omi."  


Ken’s head snapped up. "Omi?!"  


Perhaps that was not the best move . . . It brought their lips an inch apart.  


"Omi," Aya said, strained.  


"What should we do?"  


Aya thought for a moment. "Yoji’s watching over Omi on this mission. So we wait, and follow his lead."  


"Yoji’s watching . . . ?"  


"Yeah. Yoji got Omi, and I got—"  


"Me." Ken seethed. "I’m not some fucking sixteen-year-old kid, Aya. I’ve had my share of kills, same as you! I—"  


"You are so hot when you bitch, Ken."  


Ken’s mouth snapped shut. Aya thought he looked hot? It had to be a joke. "Bastard!"  


Aya touched his left cheek to Ken’s flushed forehead and whispered in his ear, "Very pretty."  


Ken trembled. It wasn’t like Aya to play games . . . There had to be a reason he was doing this on a mission.  


"They’re moving. Let’s go." Aya took Ken’s hand and stalked through the crowd.  


~*~

  


Yoji pushed away the two girls hanging on his arm and wound his way through the dancing couples. Omi, he had to get to Omi. "Hang in there, little one. I’m coming."  


~*~

  


Omi briefly wondered where Yoji was. Or Aya. Or Ken.  


He had found the Makao. Or rather, the target had hand-picked him. Why did these guys always turn out to be sick fucks that went in for underage kids? He swallowed as the silver-haired man ran two fingers up and down the sleeve of his silk shirt suggestively.  


"Pretty little thing. What’s your name?"

"Omi." He kept it simple.  


"Would you like to come home with me tonight, Omi?"  


Omi considered his options. He rubbed up against the man and said huskily, "Oh yes. I’d like that very much . . ."  


~*~

  


Yoji was having a heart-attack. Little Omi-kun had just plastered himself up against Makao like well-practiced street-hooker. It both excited and unnerved him at the same time. He _had_ to get to Omi. The target looked too big, too old, too strong for Omi if he tried anything . . . funny. Granted, Omi could be really useful in a fight, especially with his darts, but with all these people around . . . he couldn’t handle this. "Just breathe, Omi."  


~*~

  


Aya and Ken kept their distance as they tracked Omi and their target into the back halls of the club. They carefully slipped through doors and down stairways, letting the sound of footsteps guide them. It got very dark as they neared the entrance of the Underground.  


The Underground was a network of deep, dark tunnels that branched out all over old Tokyo, following the sewer lines and subway tracks. It had originally been built as a means for utility workers to quickly get to various sites, but the project was abandoned in the late sixties. Now, all manner of criminals used them as escape routes.  


Aya spun around when he heard footsteps from behind. "Yoji?" he whispered into the darkness.  


"Aya?" the blond called.  


"Yeah. Over here." Aya struck a match.  


"How did you know it was me?"  


"No one else wears loafers to an S and M club."  


"I’ll laugh later. Which way did Omi go?"  


Aya paused, then said coldly, "That was your responsibility."  


"Fuck you—"  


"Now is not the time, you two!" Ken interjected. "There are three tunnels. Split up, find Omi, kill Makao, burn the body. Right?"  


Aya nodded and unsheathed his katana from his coat.  


~*~

  


They split up, running through the dark. Ken wished he had thought to ask Aya for a match. It would be hard to claw someone to death when he couldn’t see them.  


He heard a sound. A scuffle. Up ahead. Ken ran, without making a sound, toward the source.  


~*~

  


"Let me go!" Aya heard Omi yelp.  


He rushed toward the alcove where two aqueducts merged.  


"Now, now, little boy. I thought you said you were all for the idea?"  


Omi growled. "I never said I’d go with the _four_ of you!"  


Aya stopped short. Four? Manx didn’t say anything about four—  


"That’s too bad, little slut. ’Cause four is what you got!" a different voice, gruff from years of smoking cigarettes.  


Aya peered around the corner. Omi was under a soft light bulb, backed up against a wall. Two goons were on either side of him. One stood in front, cupping the boy’s chin in his hand. Makao walked up to Omi and stuck a needle right in the boy’s throat.  


Omi grunted and sagged a little.  


"Later, boys. You can have your fun later. Bring him to the sanctuary."  


Omi struggled, but he was very weak.  


Something in Aya clicked. He needed to protect Omi like he needed to protect Ken and Yoji. And Aya-chan. They were his family. Aya raised his katana and prepared to strike.  


Suddenly, Ken burst in on the scene, clawing at the men wildly.  


What Ken lacked in planning, he made up in courage. Aya watched as Ken marred and slashed his way through the thugs, freeing Omi, splattering himself with blood.  


"Run, Omi!" Ken yelled as he swerved to block a blow. The goons ganged up on him. "Go!" Ken ordered.  


Aya watched as Omi stumbled away. He clamored down the tunnel and ran smack into Yoji’s open arms. "Come on, Omi. Let’s get you out of here," Yoji murmured, clutching the boy close.  


"But Ken-kun—"  


"Can take care of himself." Yoji finished, looking right at Aya. “Come on.” He scooped Omi up over his shoulder and ran.  


Aya straightened and charged forward. Ken looked more than a little relieved to see him. They fought side by side, sword and claw, slashing and hacking. But no sooner did they take down these goons than more thugs showed up, each one armed and deadly.  


Aya and Ken stood back to back, blocking assaults meant for each other, not themselves.  


Aya heard it. He could almost smell the metal of the gun as Makao raised it, point at his head. He was going to die.  


"Aya!" Ken screamed.  


The gun went off.  


Aya got slammed up against a wall, all his breath knocked out of him. Ken stared up at him with big brown eyes.  


The boy began to sink to the floor.  


"Ken?"  


Ken slid down the front of Aya, painting a thin line of red as he went.  


"Ken!"  


Someone swung the light bulb against the wall. Everything went black. Aya scooped Ken up and tried to escape, get Ken safe, home, to a hospital, something . . .  


The gun fired again, the sound reverberating through the tunnel. Aya tripped over a body. Ken went sprawling to the ground without so much as a grunt.  


"Ken?" Aya whispered.  


Someone tried to light a match. Light meant they were dead. Light meant they would get Ken.  


Aya pushed himself to his feet, sharp pain shooting up his left leg. He stumbled toward Ken, but tripped into a pit. He fell for a few seconds and landed on his bad leg.  


“Fuck,” he said, just before passing out.  


~*~

  



	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  


Ken was cold. Blood trickled down his arms and legs. He’d been shot. What hurt the most? His shoulder. His fucking shoulder hurt. He bit down on a groan. Where was he?  


"Awake, are we?"  


He blinked very slowly, adjusting to the light; blood and sweat stung his eyes.  


Ken hung by the wrists from a large hook in the center of what looked like a meat locker, only it couldn’t be a meat locker, because who would keep a meat locker in the Underground?  


"Well, hello there," the voice teased. "Nice to finally see you."  


"And you are?" Ken rasped.  


"Interested." The figure shifted into the light; it was Makao. The drug pushing, black market dealing, child molesting target that Ken had failed to assassinate this evening.   


Ken managed a sarcastic grin. "I’m so glad you’re entertained. Wouldn’t want you to get bored."  


The man smiled coldly and then licked the side of Ken’s face, lapping up some blood. Ken jerked back, but he couldn’t go anywhere. He panted, exhausted. “Where are the others?”  


“Hm. Good question. I’m sure you know the answer to that, better than I do.” The man tapped a finger to his lips. “I wonder, what it would take to make someone like _you_ spill his guts?”  


"One hell of a big knife," Ken joked miserably.  


"I’ve got one," the man replied, brandishing Ken’s claws from behind his back.  


Makao beat him. He whipped, slapped, spit on, and punched Ken. His goons sniggered and watched as Makao sliced him open with his own instrument and left him to bleed all over the floor. His arm had started spasming over an hour ago. Several times he almost blacked out.   


His clothing had been destroyed; now he hung, naked and broken, on a hook in some backroom in the Underground. But he didn’t scream. He didn’t even cry. He couldn’t.  


Aya had gotten away. He knew as much, because Makao kept asking about him. If Aya was okay, then it didn’t matter what that bastard did to him. Ken actually smiled through his torture.   


The silver-haired man’s hands slid down his chest and cupped Ken’s groin.   


Fear. Real fear. "N-No!"  


"Oh yes. Oh yes."  


~*~

  


When Aya came to, he shook, his leg throbbing. He opened his eyes, frantic. Ken! Where the hell is Ken? He struck one of his matches and looked around. He crawled out of the small hole, and managed to light a broken kerosene lamp a few feet away, before the match died. He didn't have to worry about where to look for Ken. That was obvious.  


He followed the trail of blood.  


~*~

  


Ken just shut down. He didn’t want to think about what was happening to his body. He would think about something else . . . something warm and soft and safe . . . like Aya’s arms. So protective and strong . . . Aya, at the foot of his bed. Aya, telling him he looked hot. Aya, threading fingers through his hair . . .  


A voice shattered his dream. "I think I’ll like you best. You’ll scream just right."  


Ken choked and sputtered as he felt the tips of his claw scrape down his ass.  


~*~

  


Aya ran along the tracks, ignoring the pain in his leg and the burns from the broken lamp. Ken was his only thought; Ken needed him now. Aya paused right outside what looked like a workman’s office. The blood splats stopped there. He paused a moment, breathing deep, and then burst through the door.  


~*~

  


Ken screamed. Pitifully.   


"Ah. I _do_ so love that sound." Makao smirked. "And I haven’t even put it in you yet—"  


"Boss!"  


"What?! Can’t you see I’m—"  


"But there’s a man—"  


Aya cut the lackey’s head off in mid-sentence. Bodies littered the hallway between the maintenance doorway and the locker room.  


Makao brought Ken’s claws up at the ready, but Aya simply grabbed his wrist and squeezed until he heard the bones there break.  


"That’s not your toy," Aya whispered. He wrenched the claws free and threw them to the floor. He brought his katana up from the man’s crotch, slicing him all the way up to his sternum, before tossing him to the floor and swiping the blood off of his blade. His chest was _soaked_ in red.  


"Aya," Ken mouthed.  


Aya looked over at his teammate—naked, seizing, bleeding—Ken’s blood painted the walls. He carefully brought Ken’s arms up and unhooked them. The boy fell into his arms.  


"Oh, Ken. I’m sorry."  


"Aya," Ken whispered. "You came back for me? " He passed out.  


Aya placed Ken on the floor. He quickly removed his coat and wrapped it around the boy. He cradled Ken in his arms and carried him out the door. Silently, he _willed_ Ken to hang on.  


~*~

  


When Aya reached their apartment, it was already past three in the morning. Yoji opened the door and quickly moved to the side the second he saw the bundle in Aya’s arms.  


Omi sat on the couch, still a little out of it from whatever drug Makao had given him. “Aya-kun! What—?"  


"It’s okay, Omi. I got to him in time. I . . .” Aya paused to pant. Ken was heavy. "Yoji, please, take him from me?”  


Yoji immediately removed Ken from Aya’s arms and placed him on the soft rug in front of the sofa. Aya sank to the floor, his knees giving out. He crawled over to Ken and lay beside him.  


"He has . . ." Aya began, "significant injuries . . ."  


"Don’t worry, Aya. I will take care of it," Yoji assured. "Omi, bring me the kit."  


Omi nodded, speechless. He retrieved the medicine box.   


“Aya, I can treat the wounds,” Yoji said, thinning his lips. “But he’s been shot. We should get him to a hospital. Or have one of Kritiker’s doctors at least take a look. I can't tell if the bullet's still inside."   


Aya nodded. “No hospitals.”  


Sighing, Yoji reached for the phone. “Manx?”  


~*~

  


Aya woke next to Ken, in Ken’s bed. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window. Ken looked like he was glowing. Unable to stop himself, Aya ran his hand through the boy’s hair.  


They were clean. No blood caked anywhere on their bodies. His left knee had been bandaged. Ken’s shoulder was wrapped up in bandages too. The boy brushed against him, breathing quietly into the crook of Aya’s neck. Ken had no shirt on and Aya could see tons of band-aids and patches on the boy’s back.   


Ken shifted. Slowly, brown eyes opened. Ken worked his jaw.  


"Here," Aya murmured, reaching over Ken to get to the glass of water on Ken’s nightstand. The boy guzzled it down.  


"Easy. No." Aya tilted the glass up and Ken whimpered. "You’ll make yourself sick," Aya explained.  


Ken nodded and placed his lips on the rim of the glass, waiting for Aya to tip the drink back to him.  


Aya let Ken take slow sips, then he put the empty glass back on the table. "Now, how’s that?" he whispered.  


"Mm," Ken said, trying not to nod off. "Where…” He cleared his throat. "Where are we?"  


"In your room. Omi and Yoji must have put us in here.”  


"Oh.” Ken’s eyes went wide. “Oh.” He began to shake. “I remember now.”  


"Ken. You’re safe.” Aya let Ken cling to him. "I’m here, Ken." He petted the boy’s hair.  


"Aya, that mission was fucked up. If you hadn’t . . . he would have—"  


"Ken."   


Ken broke off, looking up at Aya.  


"I will always come for you." Aya bent his head and kissed Ken. It was gentle; nothing heated or demanding. Just a press of their lips . . .  


Ken moaned when Aya broke the kiss. "Aya . . ."  


"Get some sleep. I’ll go check on the others,” Aya said, struggling to sit up.  


"No need to do that," Yoji said in a lazy drawl. He leaned on the doorway, grinning.  


“Y-Yoji?" Ken stuttered.  


"How are you feeling, Kenken?"  


“Uh . . . Okay. Thanks. I'm good.” Ken blushed.  


“I could see that.” Yoji winked.  


“Yoji,” Aya ground out. “We’re fine, thanks for knocking and waiting for Ken to say 'come in; before politely asking the both of us how we are, by the way.”  


Yoji smiled brightly. "Think nothing of it. I’m glad to hear you’re back to your crabby, cold self, Aya. Mind telling this one? He’s been a mess all night . . .” Yoji pulled Omi across the threshold. "Now, tell this child that you’re okay!"  


"I’m not a chi—"  


"Omi-kun?" Ken said wearily.  


"Huh, Ken-kun?"  


"I’m okay. Thanks to you guys. Thank you, for tending my . . . wounds,” Ken mumbled, embarrassed.  


Aya grimaced.  


“I didn’t. A Kritiker doctor patched you up. It was pretty touch and go. The kitchen is still a bit of a mess.” Omi grinned sheepishly. “I’m really glad you’re okay. You’re really okay, right?”  


"Yes," Aya reassured. "He’s gonna be fine.”  


"Yoji-kun? You can let go of me now!" Omi squirmed.  


"Why would I want to do that, pretty boy?" Yoji chuckled, hauling Omi up over his shoulder. He walked out of the room, blowing Ken and Aya a kiss. Omi waved.  


Ken chuckled, then yawned.  


"Sleep." Aya tussled Ken’s hair and then got out of bed.  


Ken’s eyes popped out of his head. "Wow!" he whispered, staring at Aya's erect cock.  


Aya wrapped a throw around his waist and frowned. "Sleep!" he ordered.  


Ken bit his lip and lowered his head to the pillow. "Aya?"  


Aya turned back from the door. "Yes?"  


"You’ll be here when I wake up, right? I’m not dreaming."  


Aya blinked. "Of course I’ll be here."  


"Mm." Ken snuggled in for more shut-eye.  


~*~

  


"Yoji-kun! Put me down now?" Omi cried.  


"What’re the magic words?"  


"Please?"  


"Nope."  


"Pretty please?"  


"Try again!"  


"Pretty please, Yoji-sama, oh great and powerful god of sex?"  


Yoji stopped and let Omi down, cupping Omi’s face in his hands. "Those would be the words," he murmured, before he kissed Omi’s soft mouth.  


When they broke apart, Omi was panting, his lips swollen. Yoji really wanted to rip the kid’s clothes off right then and there.  


"Yoji . . ." Omi said, breathless.  


Yoji swallowed "Omi, do you . . . do you really want this? Last night . . . I could have read my signals wrong. I don’t want to take advantage—hph!"  


Omi jumped into Yoji’s arms and wrapped his legs around the blonde’s waist, kissing him enthusiastically.  


Yoji grabbed Omi’s ass and held him up. He growled as he walked toward his bedroom.  


~*~

  



	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  


Later that night, Ken tossed in his sleep. "No! NO! Get off me! Stop—"  


Aya, in the middle of changing into his pajamas, bolted out of his bedroom and ran into the next room, blindly hitting Ken’s dresser with his banged-up knee. "Ken?!"  


"N-No."  


Aya pulled Ken up and rubbed his back. "Ken? Come back to me, Ken. It’s Aya . . . it’s me.”  


Ken shook, trapped between dreaming and awake. "Aya, you have to run away.”  


"Ken!" Aya tugged on Ken’s hair until Ken yelped. "Awake now?"  


Blinking, Ken nodded and went to rub his head, but his hand landed on Aya’s, who had beat him to it. Aya’s fingers massaged Ken’s scalp, his other hand cradling Ken close. “How’s your wound?”  


“It . . . it’s not too bad. The medicine . . . I . . . I’m sorry, Aya.”  


“Why?" Aya let his hand wander lower, to work out the kinks in Ken’s neck.  


"I woke you—"  


"Hardly the first time, Ken." Aya said wryly.  


"Huh? I’ve had nightmares before?"  


"I wouldn’t call them nightmares exactly. Unless you find it frightening to call out: ‘Oh, yeah, right there, hm . . . do it to me!’ in any way.” Aya gave Ken a lopsided grin.  


Ken blushed. “L-Liar!”  


"I never lie," Aya said seriously. "I won’t tell you I didn’t enjoy it . . . You sound sexy like that." Aya swallowed, pulling Ken closer. "All those nights, you were crying out in your sleep . . . I was hoping it was for me . . . Then you called my name . . ."  


"Aya!" Boldly, Ken wrapped his arms around Aya’s shoulders and leaned in, begging for a kiss.  


"You want me, then, Ken?" Aya whispered just above the boy’s lips.  


“Yes,” Ken hissed, before Aya crushed their mouths together. "Hmmm!"   


Aya lowered Ken to the bed and pressed a little of his weight on top of the boy, careful of Ken’s back. Ken whimpered and Aya pulled away, worried.  


Ken’s eyes were glassy; his pupils were huge. Aya brushed the tip of his index finger over Ken’s face, tracing the small dip between lip and chin, then the smooth jaw-line. “Ken. You’re pretty doped up. Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”  


Ken closed his eyes and titled his head back. “This is a good dream.”  


"No dream, Ken. It’s really happening." Aya kissed his forehead. “Are you sure you want this?”  


He smiled up at Aya with and promptly _purred_.   


Aya’s eyebrow shot up. "Idiot."  


Ken grinned and then nudged Aya’s chin with his nose. He nuzzled Aya for a long time, letting his hands smooth over Aya’s back. He purred again, this time letting the tip of his tongue dab at Aya’s jaw.  


"Good kitty," Aya huskily whispered, growing painfully hard at the sight of a straining, coaxing Ken.  


Ken purred again, and kissed Aya possessively.  


"Mm, Ken," Aya said before sucking on Ken’s throat.  


“A-Aya.” Ken arched.  


"You like that?" Aya asked, licking Ken’s ear.  


"Ohhh," Ken breathed.  


Aya covered Ken again, loving the feel of skin against warm, smooth skin. Well, the skin that wasn’t covered in bandages, anyway . . . Aya touched Ken’s shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”  


Smiling, Ken pressed Aya down on top of him, until they were flush together.  


Aya kissed the boy deeply. "You’re so amazing, Ken."  


Ken parted his legs and pulled Aya close, letting the redhead settle into the cradle of his hips. "Aya, it feels so good!"  


Aya couldn’t resist the urge to rock his hips forward slowly. Ken’s hands squeezed his ass, pushing him more roughly against the smaller boy’s pelvis. Tentatively, Ken lifted his hips with each of Aya’s thrusts. They kissed . . . Ken was so hot, so willing, so trusting as he pressed up, grinding his sex against Aya’s.   


They mashed into one another. Aya reeled back as Ken snapped his hips off the bed, jabbing his hardness against Aya’s hipbone. "Uhn . . . Definitely a very good kitty," Aya said, smiling, as he licked Ken’s throat.  


Ken teased his nails down Aya’s back, smirking; he flipped Aya over with ease. Aya didn’t resist, afraid he’d hurt Ken’s wounds.  


"Ha!" he shouted, as the boy’s teeth found a nipple.   


Ken sucked and licked his way down Aya’s chest. "Have you ever thought of getting one of those nipple rings?" he said suddenly.  


Aya closed his eyes and groaned. “If you want me to get my nipples pierced, I’ll get my nipples pierced, just keep going . . .”  


“You taste so good,” Ken whispered, working lower, laving Aya’s taut stomach muscles. When Ken reached Aya’s black boxers, he stopped and looked up.  


"Are you sure? You really want me? I don’t have any experience and I’m not—"  


"Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "I want you, Ken. I want you.”  


Ken harshly nuzzled Aya’s cock with his cheek. He kissed it through the material, mouthing it a bit before running a flattened palm across it. "I think your kitty’s in heat."  


Aya groaned again, covering his eyes with his elbow.  


"Mm. So big . . . I’ll try and fit it all.”  


Aya petted Ken’s hair. "Ken." He silently lifted his hips.  


Ken snagged the waist of Aya’s underwear down and then yanked it off of Aya’s legs. "Aya, I’ve dreamt about this every night.”  


"I _know_ ," Aya said smugly.  


Ken bit the skin between Aya’s thigh and balls, growling slightly.  


Aya gasped. "Nice kitty?"  


Ken giggled. "Aya? Um, I don’t know how to do this . . ."  


Aya brushed the back of his hand across Ken’s cheek. "You don’t have to if you don’t—"  


"I want to! I’ve just never done it before."  


"Then, just do what you think you’d like . . ." He smiled.  


Ken lapped at Aya’s cock like it was an ice cream cone, swirling his tongue around the shaft with short, merciless licks. Aya spread his legs and moaned. Ken curled his lips over his teeth and bobbed up and down on Aya’s prick.  


Aya grabbed the headboard and whined.   


“What?" Ken asked, shocked. "Did I do it wrong?"  


Aya panted, glaring at the ceiling. "You . . . you just took all of me? All nine inches of me?" he wondered.  


Ken giggled again. "You measured?"  


Aya looked at him suspiciously. "Are you sure you’re a virgin, Ken?"  


Ken’s smile faded. "I don’t know. I was kinda out of it. Did you really stop him in time?"  


Aya cupped Ken’s face. "Yes, baby. He didn’t . . . no one . . . I’d never let anyone do that to you, Ken."  


"Aya,” Ken sighed, leaning into Aya's hand.  


Aya whirled them around, so that Ken lay beneath him. "Seeing as how you're injured, what’s say I do all the work this time, huh?” He kissed Ken again and again, then licked a hot trail down the boy’s neck, his chest, his rock-hard abdomen . . . His hand wrapped around Ken, and he started pumping the boy’s thick cock.  


Ken tossed his head back and forth on the pillows. “Aya . . . where did you learn how to do this?"  


Aya grinned. "Did I ever tell you how Yoji and I first met?"  


Ken’s eyes snapped open in surprise, but he couldn’t talk because just then, Aya took Ken into his mouth. He sucked hard, relaxing his throat muscles, taking Ken all the way, and then bobbing up and down.  


Ken choked back sobs. He humped his hips off the bed.  


Aya came up for air. "Stop that," he laughed, "you’re distracting me!" Aya opened his mouth and let Ken fuck him. Ken set the pace; Ken had the control. After last night, it seemed the least he could do.   


"Aya . . . I’m gonna come," Ken cried.  


"Want you to," Aya whispered before he sucked on just the head of Ken’s cock.  


The boy came with a little whimper. Aya swallowed it all.  


“Aya,” Ken murmured. “You’re so beautiful.”  


Aya licked the boy’s nipples, resting his head on Ken’s stomach for just a moment. For the first time in months, he was happy. Really happy.  


~*~

  


Ken blinked. Between the medicine and the orgasm, he was pretty out of it. But he knew that Aya hadn’t come yet, and he wanted Aya to come. He wanted to see it; wanted to hear Aya call his name.   


Ken grabbed up that red hair and yanked Aya up for a ravenous kiss. “You weren’t planning on stopping were you?"  


Aya stroked Ken’s arm. "I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to keep going . . ."  


Ken turned them over and straddled Aya’s lap. He rocked back and forth over Aya’s dick. . "Fuck me," Ken whispered into Aya’s ear.  


Aya growled, gripping Ken’s hips. "But . . . I—that feels good—I have to . . . prepare you first . . .”  


"You might want to get on that, then.”  


Aya tossed Ken to the bed and shot up, heading toward the bathroom. He came back with a salve for sore muscles. “This should be good. It’ll be warm and tingly and—Auh!"  


Ken pinned Aya, face-first, to the wall, his hands frantically cupping Aya’s bottom and stroking in suggestive circles. "Nmmm, Aya.”  


Aya panted; the older man sounded like he was going to come soon. "I’ve gotta . . . uh . . . some lube . . ."  


Ken got down on his knees and bit Aya’s firm ass. He licked and kissed Aya’s cheeks, all the while making little pleading noises. "But I don’t wanna wait!" he whined.  


Aya pivoted around and thrust his leaking cock against Ken’s blushing face. "You want it so bad, huh?"  


"Yeah . . ."  


Aya picked Ken up and kissed him hard, their teeth gnashing together. "Then be a good sex-kitty and trust me."  


Ken pouted, but nodded, bracing himself on the door frame.  


~*~


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  


Damn, Ken looked so hot. Who knew the blushing virgin could be so passionate?  


Aya gripped the salve in his hands and willed himself to calm down. He had never lost control like this before.  


Ken purred and ran his hands up and down Aya’s biceps. "Don’t take too long."  


"Greedy." Aya grinned, kissing Ken.  


"Gonna punish me, Aya?" the boy asked with lidded eyes.  


"Oh, you better believe it, Ken. First things first. Let’s get back into bed. Then you can put some salve on me—"  


"Like this?" Ken smiled as he squeezed some of the cool lotion into his palm and then fisted Aya’s erection with his slick, tight hand.  


Aya fell back against the wall with a moan.  


"Hm? I couldn’t hear you, Aya?" Ken laughed.  


Aya’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He took the salve out of Ken’s hands and poured some on his fingers. He pulled Ken roughly to him, and then slipped his arm around Ken’s waist.  


Ken continued to stroke, not even stopping when Aya brushed over his warm opening. He gasped when Aya gently thrust his finger in.  


"Ken? Is this okay?"  


Ken touched his head to Aya’s shoulder. “More.” Ken thrust back.  


Aya gulped and inserted two fingers, parting them slightly to stretch out the virginal ring of muscle there.  


"Aya . . . don’t treat me like broken glass. I like it rough . . . I think . . ."  


Aya laughed. "You _think_?" He spun them around, forcing Ken to grip either side of the doorframe. “I could fuck you right here, and if the other’s walked by . . .”  


"Do it," Ken whispered.  


Aya was raw and he wanted Ken so bad, he could burst out of his skin. He pulled the boy’s hips back and placed his cockhead between the boy’s cheeks. "I’m gonna make you feel so good, Ken."  


"Aya!" Ken sobbed when Aya slowly pushed all the way in.  


“Don’t cry; I’ll stop . . .” Aya winced but he started to pull out of Ken.  


"Don’t you dare! Stop and I’ll kill you!" Ken hissed, digging his nails into the wood.  


Swearing, Aya took a deep breath and then pulled out and rammed back in. He did it over and over, pumping his hips forward, making Ken moan and rock up on the balls of his feet. Again and again, he stroked inside the boy, careful not to tear, not holding back either. The angle was perfect; he could come so easily . . .  


He pushed Ken forward, out into the hallway, slamming him up against the wall. He spun the boy around, lifted Ken's left leg up over his hip, and thrust up.  


"Yes! Yes!" Ken hissed in his ear, raking his back now, clawing madly at him to try and get Aya to move faster, rougher.  


"Ken!" Aya said as he slammed their bodies together, fucking Ken so hard that the boy had to come up on his tiptoes.  


“More, more!" Ken begged.  


Aya toppled them to the floor, his arm around Ken’s neck so that the boy’s wounded shoulder wouldn’t hurt too badly. He spread Ken’s legs and kissed the boy’s mouth, taking him savagely. They fucked like animals in the middle of the hallway.  


“Ken, Ken . . .”  


Ken sucked on Aya’s neck, his hands pushing Aya’s ass, making him thrust deeper into his hole. He clenched his muscles and smiled when Aya groaned. "Aya, fuck me . . . fuck me into the ground.”  


He was gonna die. He was gonna go nuts. Pleasure ripped down his spine, past his lower back, making his cock swell to the point of pain. Aya had to close his eyes, his hips pistoning forward rapidly.  


"Aya!"  


Aya reached down with his hand, still slick with sweat and remnants of salve, and jerked Ken off in time with his thrusts. He shoved himself into Ken over and over, and tugged on the boy’s leaking prick.  


“Come,” Aya murmured, running his finger over Ken’s slit.  


Ken threw his head back and howled, his come splattering over Aya’s chest. He clamped down and raised his hips, letting Aya rut. Aya came, whispering Ken’s name brokenly.  


He collapsed. They both panted. Aya raised himself up on shaking arms and smiled down at Ken.  


Who, of course, blushed . . .  


"Very pretty," Aya whispered, kissing Ken on the cheek.  


"Aya? Aya, do you just realize that we had sex in the hallway?" Ken asked.  


Aya blinked. "What will Omi and Yoji think?"  


They sniggered.  


“ _OMI_!”  


They stopped laughing when they heard Yoji shout like that.  


"Harder, Yoji-kun!” the boy wailed.  


Aya and Ken looked at each other.  


Slow grins . . . silent laughter . . . finally, they both cackled. Aya grinned, touching his forehead to Ken’s.  


“That’s just great. We’re all gay. Because it’s just not enough to be florist assassins, oh no.” Ken giggled as he leaned up to nip at Aya’s chin.  


“Ken. I’m not gay. I just . . . really like you. And there was that one time with Yoji, but that was on a mission . . . And okay, that one time when Schuldich tricked me, but he has mind control, so it doesn’t count. And—”  


"I love you, Aya,” Ken whispered.  


Aya blinked. "Ran."  


"Huh?"  


"That’s my real name: Ran."  


"Ran?" Ken smiled shyly. "I love you, Ran."  


"You . . . you and Aya-chan are everything to me, Ken.” That was as close as Aya could get to saying the words . . .  


“Omi! Why didn’t you _tell_ me you were so flexible? I've got a copy of Kama Sutra!" Yoji’s hoarse voice bellowed through the apartment.  


"Um . . . I don’t want to know?" Ken said.  


"Hm. Me either. Let’s go to bed."  


"Yours or mine?"  


"Ours," Aya said as he lifted Ken off the floor and walked into his bedroom, flopping them both down on the mattress. Aya picked up a towel he had left on the floor and wiped them off, then slipped beneath the covers.  


There were no dreams that night. They didn’t need them.  


~*~

  


Aya walked into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist. Ken was making his favorite—strawberry pancakes. The boy moved a little slowly, still recovering from his wounds and . . . other stuff.  


He wanted kiss his lover, but Yoji sat right there, nursing his cup of coffee.  


"Sleep well, Yoji?" Aya smirked. Ken almost dropped the butter on the floor.  


"Humph. You?" Yoji retorted, grinning.  


"Best night I’ve had in years." Aya grinned.  


Just then, Omi came flying into the kitchen, grinning sheepishly and eyeing the pancakes. "Is that for breakfast? I’m famished!"  


"I’ll just bet," Ken muttered under his breath.  


Aya got up from the table and walked over to the stove. "No, no. You put the berries on last. Otherwise you’ll burn them."  


Normally, this would have started an argument. But Aya took the bowl of berries from Ken’s hands, removing one strawberry and brushing it across Ken’s lower lip. When Ken went to bite the fruit, Aya replaced it with his own lips, bending Ken over backwards in a hot, possessive kiss. Then he casually set the bowl down on the counter, popped the berry in his mouth, and silently walked back to his chair.  


Yoji’s eyes popped out of their sockets.  


"I think we can do better," Omi said casually, sauntering over, planting himself in Yoji’s lap. He rocked his hips back and forth, pushing his fingers through blond hair, kissing Yoji like his life depended on it.  


Ken almost fainted.  


"Oh really?" Aya said dangerously. "We’ll see about that . . ." He got up to move toward Ken.  


Ken pointed a spatula straight at Aya’s heart. "Oh no, you don’t! In your dreams, pal! Are you listening to me? I am _not_ burning this kitchen down again, Ran!"  


Aya turned off the stove, quietly saying, "Well, not with the oven, you won’t," before he pounced Ken to the floor.  


~*~

  


_  
_

Let us go then, you and I,  
When the evening is spread out against the sky  
Like a patient etherised upon a table . . .  
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.  


“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” – T.S. Elliot  



End file.
